


Why We Wake

by Katalyna_Rose



Series: Vhenan AU [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 17:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9503021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalyna_Rose/pseuds/Katalyna_Rose
Summary: Everyone Solas knew is long gone, even those elves who remained after the fall of Arlathan. Why does he keep waking up, instead of letting himself drift away in Uthenera? Because Lavellan is still with him.





	

Sometimes Solas wondered why he carried on still. All others had gone to uthenera, even Abelas, who had weathered the ages far longer than most others. Everything about the world was now entirely different from the world he’d woken up in. When he woke, he’d sought to fix his mistakes, but sometimes second chances weren’t given. This had been one of those times; the Veil could not be removed, not by him. Perhaps, in time, it would wear down until it finally snapped, but that would be a long time coming, even for him.

Sometimes Solas couldn’t remember what made him wake up every morning, why he kept on going. The others from his time were long gone, their bodies crumbled to dust and true death by time and neglect. Only he remained.

Well, not quite.

She swept into the room like a spring breeze, cool and refreshing, reminding him why he woke up. She was clad in nothing but his shirt, of the same style he’d worn ever since they’d fought side by side in the Inquisition. Though her heroism against a monster of his own making had faded to legend and myth, the woman was still very real. Solas grinned as she swished her hips, making the extra length of cloth over her backside sway enough to reveal tantalizing flashes of her bare skin. He smirked; she knew how much he enjoyed her backside.

She was humming, a song older even than she was. It was a soothing tune, light and airy and floating through the room. She paused her humming as she took a sip of her coffee, then resumed immediately upon swallowing.

She stirred a little honey into another mug, then brought it to him, kissing his forehead lightly as she did so. He grinned up at her.

“Thank you, vhenan,” he said. She grinned around her tune and took another sip of her coffee.

The tea was a mixture of her own making, something that he enjoyed despite his usual distaste for tea. Jasmine was the strongest flavor, with hints of lavender and elfroot. It was only slightly caffeinated, just enough to help him wake up in the morning but not enough to interfere with his ability to enter the Fade. Yet another thing to thank her for.

She was the reason he was still awake. He couldn’t save his people, but he had been able to save her, to impart upon her the immortality that their people had once possessed. He hadn’t wanted to do it, at first. He had thought she would be better off with her people, living as they had done since the fall of the Dales. She had thought otherwise. She hadn’t minded giving up her life, had told him quite truthfully that she’d done that the moment she agreed to spy at the Conclave for her clan.

“I cannot bear to think of you alone,” she’d told him pleadingly. “I love you.” And so he had given her this gift and kept her by his side. Not at first, of course. At first he’d thought to keep her safe by keeping her away. She’d proven many times that she was perfectly capable of getting herself into trouble without his influence. She’d even turned his own agents to spy for her a few times. He’d almost had to resort to only sending agents he had some sort of hold over to spy on her after he discovered two double agents in his ranks that had been sending her information on his movements.

The final one he caught had been halfway through writing her a report. It had spoken a little of his movements and plans and people, but mostly had reported on his well-being: how much he ate and slept, if he was taking care of himself, what his mood was like. When he’d asked the man why he’d turned, he had replied only with the words, “She _cares.”_ He would say no more than that.

He never had gotten her to tell him how she’d turned his people into her spies all those centuries ago.

It had been the final straw that broke him, the love and concern evident in the type of report she asked of her double agent, and he went to her.

“Finally get tired of finding my spies among your people?” she asked when she saw him in her rooms at Skyhold. She’d been sitting at her desk, balcony doors open to the cool fall wind, and she’d set her pen down and leaned back in her chair when he entered from the balcony across from her. She had remained calm, her emotions clamped down tight to allow her to say what she needed to without breaking down; she’d been expecting him, and he’d realized there were more spies still among his people. And he didn’t care.

He hadn’t left her side since that night. It was hard to believe, sometimes, even for him, that it had been a thousand years since that night. And still he was never more than fifty feet away from her at any time. He had no desire to be, nor did she.

Little things were what kept their love a brightly burning flame. The sight of her in his clothing, making him tea in the morning for no reason other than because she desired to. A single embrium flower, purchased when her back was turned and presented to her surprised face. Meals they made that reminded them of ages long past, sometimes improvising ingredients that no longer existed. The way she sat on his lap on their couch in their apartment as she drank her coffee and they watched the news on the TV every morning. The way she braided strands of her hair when she was nervous or stressed. The way she would take his hand as they walked side by side, just because it was there and she desired his touch. The way he would wrap his arm around her shoulders simply to hold her. The way they still wandered the Fade together each night, exploring ancient memories and meeting spirits. His love for her would never fade.

“Solas?” she asked softly, her head resting on his shoulder.

“Hm?” he responded, running his fingers through her soft hair. She turned her head to look at him, and he met her eyes.

“Do you ever think about uthenera? About when we might…” she asked hesitantly, braiding the ends of her hair with jerky movements. He frowned slightly and muted the television.

“As long as you are with me, I have no desire to end this journey,” he told her. She smiled brilliantly and her hands dropped into her lap.

“That’s how I feel, too,” she admitted. “Even though the spirits tell of the Inquisition and my story as ancient memories to curious travelers, and I’ve seen the world age little by little, I’ll never be tired of it as long as I can watch it pass with you.” He kissed her softly, his smile against her lips, and she returned it. Her soft sigh brushed his mouth and cheek as she released him. “Maybe we’ll even live to see the Veil fall naturally, and shape what comes next.”

“Perhaps we will,” Solas said softly, pondering what such a thing could look like. Then he shook his head; he truly couldn’t picture it anymore, a world shaped by his hands. It had been a long time since he’d thought to envision such a thing. “I suppose we shall see what the future brings.” She grinned at him again.

“I suppose we shall,” she agreed, and nestled into his embrace.


End file.
